Page 113 of Sad Girl Hours
Jenna eyes Casper. “Yes, maybe the bear thing wasn’t the best idea. But I still think you should—”
“Quit it.” I’m annoyed now. “I’m not going outside, not unless you give me a better reason than my fictional hot flush and an even more fictional bear.”
“But—”
“No,” I say firmly. “Just watch the show. Vivvie must be up soon.”
Jenna sighs and then taps furiously into her phone.
We watch a few more models strut down in some very extra outfits (including a ridiculous cage piece that the announcer says was designed by Evie, to no surprise from me). I’m just about to lean over and make a probably bitchy comment about it to Jenna when something prods me in the shoulder. I whirl round, ready to glare at whoever’s behind me, but it turns out that what’s behind me is a wild Vivvie.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, thoroughly bemused.
“Mine’s about to come out. I wangled the grand finale spot, and I wanted a better view. Also, I wanted to say that you should probably go and get some fresh air now.”
“What the fuck is up with you guys’ insistence I getfresh air? One of you needs to tell me what’s going on.”
“Will you just do as we say?” Vivvie has the gall to look annoyed withme.
“No.” I decide to try the stubbornness track, turning back round to stare fixedly at the catwalk. “I’ve come here to support you and to clap very loudly when I see your dress, not to leave midway through and go and freeze in the practically Arctic January night air. Now shut up and just watch the show. Oh my God, look!”
Vivvie’s dress is here. The model walks out, while the voiceover explains that this dress was made by ‘Viviana Castillo’ out of entirely recycled fabrics.
The dress consists of hundreds andhundredsof different leaf shapes in russets, golds, greens, oranges, all billowing out in the princess-style skirt and made into a patchwork corset top… The effect is like a forest floor rippling as the model walks. It’s stunning.
“Oh, Vivvie… It’s beautiful,” I breathe. Casper and Jenna look similarly enthralled.
“It is,” she says. “Now will you go outside, please? You’ve seen my dress.”
I’m genuinely pissed with them now. “No,” I say, still staring stubbornly out at the scene in front of me.
“Fine.” Vivvie turns away, walking back down towards the front, the voiceover talking about why she chose to go with all recycled materials and how the seasons are merging into one.
I allow my gaze to flit to her as she walks back towards the wing where the other fashion students are watching, and notice her arm stick out. There’s a moment where I squint to try to work out what she’s doing, but then it becomes crystal clear.
An alarm blares out, making everyone sit up straighter in concern, waiting to find out what’s going on.
And then the sprinklers go off.
Everyone immediately forgets the very clear instructions we were given at the start of the evening, and stands up, grabbing their belongings, screams ringing out and people clasping their handbags over their heads.
“OK, EVERYBODY OUT THE BACK. FORM ORDERLY LINES, PLEASE.” It’s Rosa again, immediately taking charge of the situation.
A few minutes later and we’re evacuated out into the courtyard, the poor models looking particularly blue, rumoursflying around about a dress having caught fire backstage and someone being treated for ‘seventh-degree burns’.
I, however, suspect I know the truth behind the situation. When Vivvie makes her way over to us again, I laser in on her immediately. “What the fuck did you do?”
“What didIdo? I have no idea what you mean.”
“I think you do. You punched the fire alarm, didn’t you?”
“Certainly not.” She arranges her features into a look of pure (fake) affront. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, Eleanora, but I don’t appreciate the allegations. Now, I’m getting rather chilly. Casper, I believe you have some picnic blankets in your car. Nell, why don’t you go and get them for us?”
“Go and get them yourself. Or, Casper, you get them – it’s your car.”
This whole evening has been weird as fuck. I can’t wait to be back home and in my own room, away from my sprinkler-turning-on, fresh-air-obsessed friends.
“Nell.” Jenna turns to face me fully, looking right in my eyes. “Just go and get the blankets.Please.”
